Charred Chard and foggy fog

Barry (my late husband) would always complain about the internet knowing his inner thoughts. If he looked up cheap holidays in Fiji then his Facebook page would be flooded with adverts to Fijian holidays for the next month or two. The same goes for movies, houses, cars and clothes. Heaven help us if he ever looked up more salacious sites, which he didn't. Although to be truthful, we did often get people wanting to be our 'friend' and I still get those. 'Hello I am Stephen and am serving in the American army in Afghanistan and am looking for a friend in New Zealand. I have always wanted to visit the country and your face looked kind and I knew you would want to be my friend.' Really? Nah. Maybe I should change my profile photo to something a bit more angry or aggressive? Although even when I put up photos of the grandkids as my profile photo, these nutters still want to be my friend. I knew a lady who fell for this spiel once upon a time. Yes, it turns out he was from Nigeria and was wanting to scam her out of her savings. Luckily she was stopped by her daughter-in-law from sharing her bank details with said criminal.

Anyhow, that brings me to Cambridge Analytical. They were the folks who harvested our information from Facebook to manipulate the American election. And Brexit... and Liberia elections, and even Mandela used them to win his bid to be the Prime Minister of South Africa. Really, it is all on public record. I wouldn't lie to you, I promise. There is no such thing as a free and fair election any more. How they do it is find, from your information (gained from Google, Facebook, Twitter etc) if you are persuadable. Can you be manipulated to change your vote to suit their agenda. In America they targeted 70 000 people in swing states and then bombarded them with Anti-Hillary propaganda. Fake news if you would like to call it that. Scary scary and very blooming scary stuff. And then of course we have Trump who hired them ... and now Boris. Whew. What is next? But am I one of those people who is able to be manipulated? That worries me something horrible. From the things I 'Like' on Facebook is someone able to tell if I can be influenced in some way? If I 'Like' cute cats or funny videos or even comedians am I informing these companies about the inner Pat? Can they tell if I am naughty or nice? Hey maybe Cambridge analytical actually worked for Santa too? Luckily Cambridge analytical has disbanded but don't get too complacent folks, I am sure there is a replacement company waiting in the wings to mine our inner demons for their financial gains as we speak.

Did you know that if you suffer a trauma, your internal muscles will clench to protect your vital organs? Your brain will also freak out and refuse to learn anything until it has dealt with the trauma. So kids in a violent household will be less likely to do well at school. And the internal muscles clenching ... well that will continue on for many years to come and is known as one of the signs of PTSD. Our mind wants to alleviate that stress and tries to release the pressure ... sometimes in a negative way because doing something bad is better than doing nothing at all. That is why people who have been abused as children sometimes become abusers or choose an abuser as their life partner. Its their twisted way of releasing that inner pressure and helping them feel better. A beautiful sweet lady I know, was sexually abused by her father from the time she was tiny ... and guess what? When she grew up she chose a man who beat her as her husband and stayed with him until he died. Do we really know what we are doing to our kids when we hit them? So many people think that it is okay to discipline children with a smack ... or two or three or twenty three. Even if we don't sexually or physically beat them senseless, what happens to their minds and bodies when we react in a violent way to their actions? I have been doing a keto diet/lifestyle for a while and the psychiatrist in the programme says that when we look at food ... not even eat the stuff, just look, our blood sugars start to spike. So gazing at a picture of a chocolate cake or burger and fries is enough to send my sugars shooting through the roof.

Barry would be laughing at me behind the veil of death. All those times I refused to eat his Swiss Chard and now I have two cups of the stuff for breakfast each morning. In fact his little garden of Chard is now looking very sad from over use. I take one fruit, two cups of Chard, a stick of celery and 2 tablespoons of Greek yogurt ... throw them in the blender and hey presto, breakfast on the run. Although I must admit that the taste is sometimes too bitter for me and I add a few drops of Stevia .... a girl has to do what makes things palatable for her health. This year I am even considering planting a few more Swiss Chard to carry me through the year. I can almost hear Barry's snicker. Snicker on Barry you definitely got the last laugh on me. So back to the PTSD stuff.... no, my little attempt at being more healthy is nothing like being abused by someone with power and control over you. What I am trying to say, is our mind is amazing and we should not underestimate the effects of a trauma on our future health and happiness. Be kind... always. The only thing adults teach children when they smack them is that when they are big that they can beat up on smaller creatures. Be an adult ... and know that you should control yourself and not those around you.

I recently got talked into donating money to the SPCA. The young man had obviously had a 'liquid' lunch of beer and was very jolly. He insisted that I didn't look old enough to be retired. I did wonder if the beer ... or two ... he had consumed had caused his eyes to filter out the wrinkles etc, but at the end of the day, I love animals and hate to see them hurt... so yes, I did sign on the dotted line and agree to cough up some cash. He told me that it was 'only' the cost of a coffee a day. Yeah, nah bro. I don't drink coffee and no, even if I did, I doubt you could get a coffee in the restaurants in town for a dollar a day. But we did have a nice chat on the front doorstep. You see, I don't invite strange men into my home now that I don't have a male around to 'protect' me and my good name. As it was ... about ten people mentioned that they had seen me 'entertaining' a young man on my front step. Who knew that so many people drove past in the short time we talked and that it was people that knew me enough to take note?

I did meet a man this week that lives down the road from me. When I said where I lived he immediately admitted that he had seen me perched on my ladder painting my garage wall with poppies and had wanted to meet me. It seems that I can't get away with anything. That is one of the perks ... or problems ... of living in a small town. Everyone knows your business and takes an interest. Not that I mind too much, it makes me feel like a big fish in a small pond and if anyone tries to put their fishing line into my pond, that I can rely on others to get me out of the situation. World famous in Te Kuiti?

It is the season of birthdays. My Dad would always joke that September is 9 months after the Christmas parties and hence the high birthrate. No, I am not born in September. My birthday is November. An Easter baby perhaps? Anyhow I looked on my calendar and yes, lots of birthdays to prepare for. Two of my own children were born in September and no, I did not enjoy Christmas parties overly much. My auntie Kay turns 92 this week and even though she herself does not celebrate birthdays, (it's not part of her religious beliefs) her birthday was always the start of the silly season. By the time it got to my birthday my Mom was always sick and tired of all the fuss and nonsense and my sister Jane and I were encouraged to have a joint celebration. Often it even got tagged on to the Guy Fawkes bonfire night if Mom was really fed up with organising parties where she had to entertain kiddies. As many of you know, I am not a fan of Guy Fawkes. But give me a good Halloween and I am as happy as Larry. Why is Larry considered happy? No idea. Recently the fog of San Francisco has been given a name.... Karl. He even has a book on sale and has Twitter accounts to his name. (The book is called Karl the Fog). Sorry I went off on a tangent for a moment.... so back to birthdays. How old should you be before you no longer have celebrations? After 21 do you then only have parties for the round numbers? Or do you just down scale the size of the gathering? This year I turn 66 ... so not one of the big ones and seriously I am not planning anything special at all. A quiet dinner out with friends or family. How down scale can I make it? Should I have a cupcake with a single candle in it all to myself? Or do I unearth the roast pork from my freezer and invite some folks around? I try to have only one dinner party at my house per year because I am basically lazy and hate the prep and the cleanup afterwards ... At my age should I be relying on my adult kids to take over the mantle of party preparer? A friend of mine sometimes takes herself off to a tropical island on her birthday, leaving friends and family behind to feel envious. She relaxes in the sea ... with hot and cold running waiters to supply her with whatever her heart desires. Maybe that is a plan. Can I afford a tropical getaway? Maybe not ... the best I can do is put a sun lounger in my back yard and hope that it doesn't rain while I lie back and read a good book or two. Maybe I can buy some of those little paper umbrella thingies and put one in my Eskimo cocktail to add a bit of festivity? (Eskimo cocktail is basically ice in water ... and if you feel fancy you can put a piece of lemon on the side.)